


we remember moments

by padfootvioletstilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Memory Fic, Temporary Amnesia, WIP, forced seperation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-23 00:22:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7459302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padfootvioletstilinski/pseuds/padfootvioletstilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles remembers Derek, he remembers a life with Derek, loving Derek, until it's all gone.</p>
<p>Or, Stiles and Derek are forcibly separated for safety, their memories of each other wiped away, what happens when Stiles remembers but Derek does not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This is what he knows now.

Stiles remembers loving Derek. He remembers sex with Derek, toe curling orgasms and sharp edges and all consuming passion. 

He remembers softness with Derek, the way he cradled him to his chest when he was close, desperate to be closer at the risk of fusing together. He remembers kisses on his forehead, in his hair, on his chest and his neck. In the arches of his feet and on the flesh of his thighs. A mixture of hard and devastating softness that Stiles could never recover from. 

He remembers talking with Derek, lying on his chest and basking in sunlight, they talked about their past, about dead parents and old loves and hates. Derek relinquished secrets he could never tell his older sister, about how his skin would crawl when Kate had touched him and the way he felt dirty after finding out what Jennifer really was. How he felt so dirty that he scrubbed his skin raw.

He remembers breakfast with Derek, he remembers running with Derek, and he remembers falling for Derek. Too fast and too far to get up from. Stiles remembers his heart aching for Derek, wanting Derek when he wasn't there and wanting him when he was. He didn't think he would ever stop, could ever stop.

Until one day he did.

Then all he remembered was a man, a man with stubble, a man with hazel eyes, a man, a broken man, a wolf man, a fixed man, then no man at all.

* * *

This is what he knows now.

He wakes up every morning, sometimes alone. Sometimes not. But the women and men he picked up were never enough to fill that space, that pit. 

He wakes up every morning, most of the time alone. But there was something missing, he knew there was something missing. 

He goes to college, criminal law. He does well in class, so he hopes.

He does well in his job, a book shop, but sometimes when he puts something back up on a shelf he gets a sudden phantom memory, of being pushed against a bookshelf and lips trailing hotly down his neck and his hands running through soft hair, and book spines digging into his back, but he didn’t care, and, and, and. 

Then nothing.

* * *

He’s running, so fast too hard and too far. Where has Scott gone? He was right here, where could he have gone? Where was the witch? Where was the Omega? Where was Lydia, Malia and Kira and- And- A flash of light.

He flies backward, he falls and he’s numb and he wants to leave and he wants to remember the person who crawled into his chest and made a home there. But he can’t. And it hurts so much. 

Everything hurts so much.

Voices wake him up, an old worried tremor that could only be his Dad, what was he saying? “I thought if they didn’t remember they wouldn’t be in danger anymore? That he couldn’t get hurt anymore!” 

“No, we said there was a possibility that they would be left alone, we had no idea that this would happen.” The cool voice, cryptic, secret, Deaton. “I thought it would be simple, if they didn’t remember each other, if they were kept away from each other, if we acted as if they never existed-“ He? Who was he? The one with the hazel eyes. A name, he needs a name.

“He staring to remember, Stiles phases out all the time, they could have protected each other here.” That voice was right and sharp and intelligent. Lydia. He tries to stay deathly still, his eyes clenched shut, pain keeping his body rigid.

“He would never forgive us if he found out.” Scott.

“He deserves better! He needs to know!” Lydia.

“If he found out I could lose Stiles, we would all lose Stiles, Lydia, he would hate us forever.”

“Maybe that’s best for him. Do you even care about what he is going through at the moment? Do you even know how Derek is doing-“ 

**Derek.**

**Derek.**

That name ran around in Stiles head in a number of different languages and pronunciations but the only thing coherent enough was _Derek Derek Derek._

He shot up and opened his eyes to a mixture of concerned and worried faces, his father's withered face was next to his. His father looked at him earnestly but Stiles felt like someone was punching his throat repeatedly, over and over again. 

“I don’t care about what you did before, but if you want to save our relationship. You will take me to him. Now.”


	2. remember naught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anxiety was punching Stiles in the chest at every step he took towards the door, his father and Scott just a few steps behind him. He walked past the small garden in terse silence. He wants to be sick. He wants to vomit over this poor rendition of a perfect life, the perfect life that he and Derek had wanted together, snatched away from him without even say.
> 
> He knocks timidly on the front door, then forcibly, he could feel the warmth of his father and Scott at his shoulders and focused on nothing but the blue door in front of him. Until it flew open.

He’s in his jeep, he hasn’t been trusted to drive, so he's curled up in a passenger seat, he can't help but remember that his and Derek's first kiss had been in the Jeep. They were coming down from adrenaline and horror and the realisation that they were _safe safe safe_ ,  Stiles had placed the finishing blow, his bat crashing down on the Kelpie's head, Wolf Derek was soaked with water and blood. Human Derek was naked and broken and so human in his jeep and-

  
He remembers reaching up, touching a cut against Derek’s forehead, he wasn’t letting himself heal. He never lets himself heal.

  
He remembers brushing his fingertips, a feather touch across Derek’s eyebrows and nose and lips, the bags under his eyes, he remembers Derek’s breath hitching, big, warm hands cupping his face.

  
“Stiles, if this happens, there's no coming back from this.”

  
“I know.”

  
Then he was pulled across the counsel into Derek’s lap, denim-clad legs sliding against bare ones, soft lips and tongues hit, and then they were ravenous and starved and could not be sated.

  
The hunger never ended, they ached for each other, their kisses full of agonising longing and warmth. It took a long time for their kisses to be soft.

* * *

 

He wakes up, they’re here. They’ve arrived at a house with a white fence, the one they talked about and wanted and imagined when they were sated and curled around each other like puzzle pieces.

  
Anxiety was punching Stiles in the chest at every step he took towards the door, his father and Scott just a few steps behind him. He walked past the small garden in terse silence. He wants to be sick. He wants to vomit over this poor rendition of a perfect life, the perfect life that he and Derek had wanted together, snatched away from him without even say.

  
He knocks timidly on the front door, then forcibly, he could feel the warmth of his father and Scott at his shoulders and focused on nothing but the blue door in front of him. Until it flew open.

  
Stiles looks at Derek and it is like a punch in the gut and a bucket of water over his head at the same time. He looks ruffled and his shoulders are so tense, this jaw is stern and tight but not as tight as his shirt which presents his chest in a glorious way.

 

But the back of Stiles' mind knew that there was something wrong with him, his posture was wrong and his face was agitated. But that didn't stop him from falling into his chest and wrapping his arms around his waist.

  
He breathed in Derek's warmth and his only coherent thought was **HOME HOME HOME**.

  
But Derek didn't wrap his arms around him as he hoped he would, in fact, he stiffened even more, Stiles could feel his spine straightening and could feel his shallow breaths.

 

He unhooked himself slowly and didn't stop the tears from gathering in his eyes. His emotions had been subdued and he believed he had earned this chance to be vulnerable.  
He had been too subdued to not allow himself a bit of weakness.

  
His breath shuddered, “Derek?”

  
There was no flicker of recognition in his hazel eyes, Stiles wanted to reach out and trace the bags under his eyes, but he didn't dare reach out for fear of rejection and if his touch was unwanted.

  
“Are you alright Derek?”

  
Derek swallowed and Stiles watched the movement intently; as if he would never witness it again.

 

Finally, Derek spoke.

  
“Who are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the second chapter, sorry about the suckish title. Comments are appreciated. Thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter, it is unedited and for that I apologise. I should be posting the next chapter's as soon as possible.
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated :)


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